


A Bright New Tomorrow

by procrastinatingprincess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abused Harry, Adopted Harry, Baby Harry, Child Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Smut, mad sex, manipulative but apologetic dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingprincess/pseuds/procrastinatingprincess
Summary: A child left on a door-stoop, desperate for love. A man tossed into prison without a trial, left with only his thoughts of revenge to keep him company. Five years have passed since that fateful day that Lord Voldemort walked into Godric's Hollow and murdered Lily and James Potter- five years of damage done to every soul they had ever touched. Time cannot erase all wounds. AU





	1. The Storm

#  _History is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books-books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, 'What is history, but a fable agreed upon?”_

#    
_― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code_

 

**1986**

Lighting flashed across the sky, illuminating the night sky over Number 4 Privet Drive. The thunder roared after it, echoing off of the houses, rattling the windows, and hiding the small whimpers from the small cupboard under the stairs. A little boy was curled up under the stairs, bright green eyes filled with terrified tears. The bed was only covered in a thin sheet, no blanket in site, but that was alright, because the dirty clothes he had on were large enough for him to burrow almost completely into. An alarm went off near his head, making him jump again. Reaching small, bruised hands out, he pushed the button to quiet it.

  
_5:25 AM_

  
Throwing his thin legs out from under the covers, Little Harry Potter struggled to open his cupboard door. The light bruises all over his body certainly didn’t help the fact, and neither did his malnourishment and lack of sleep. Yet, the six year old little boy never once complained. Perhaps, it was because it was all he knew. Perhaps, it was because his Uncle had drilled it into his head that he was a worthless ‘freak’. Whatever the case, Harry moved around the kitchen as he did every morning, tears on his cheeks from the storm. He was scared, but after five years here at Number 4, he knew there would be no comfort for him.

By 6 o’clock, there was bacon sizzling on the stove as the tiny child tried to keep his skin from being burned by the hot grease. Toast was buttered on the table, along with a tall glass of orange juice.  
  
“Why the devil isn’t that bacon done, boy?” Vernon Dursley growled as he stomped into the kitchen, “You’re suppose to have it done by the time I wake up.” Sitting his fat ass down in the chair and starting to eat, his words were like ice “Don’t burn that bacon, boy.”  
  
“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry replied in a small voice, stumbling toward the table and carefully dishing the bacon onto the plate. He offered his Uncle a small smile, hoping that he’d done it right this time. Maybe his Uncle would offer him a small bit of praise like he gave to Dudley, but of course, he received none.

 

“Where’s my coffee?” Vernon grunted, opening the newspaper that Harry had fetched from the front step for him. The big man barely even glanced at his nephew, deeming him unworthy  of his time. This was routine by this point. He woke up and the little freak had his breakfast waiting for him. He left for work, leaving a long list of chores that Harry had better have gotten finished by the time he returned home. If he had, Harry would then make dinner and be given a small plate to take back to his closet. If he did not...well, at the very least, the ungrateful brat would have no dinner, “My coffee better be in my hand in the next five seconds, boy.”  
  
“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry squeaked, rushing to the coffee pot. How could he have forgotten? Pouring the scalding liquid into the glass with trembling hands, a bit of the liquid hit his hand, burning his already scarred hands. Stepping toward the table, thunder rocked the house again. In an instant, the cup was falling from little hands, crashing against the floor and shattering on bare feet, “I-I-I’m s-sorry, sir!” The little boy was already cringing away as the large man shoved the chair back, rage in his eyes.  
  
“You worthless piece of shit!” Vernon raged, hatred burning in his eyes as he raised his fist. The storm covered the sounds of fists pounding against soft flesh, and the cries of a little boy who only wanted to be loved.  

 

_7: 23 AM_

 

Storms at Azkaban Prison were an exciting time for the mangy mutt pacing back and forth in his cell. Screams and moans and curses filled the halls, occasionally drowned out by the thunder. Dementors roamed the halls, keeping everyone in check, and aiding in the bone-cold shivers that reigned over everyone imprisoned within the already cold stone walls.

 

Reason number one-hundred and fifty seven  why Sirius was grateful to be a dog. The animagus went back to his corner, gazing down at the newspapers that he’d had smuggled in for himself. They kept him sane, or as sane as anyone could be in this place. Perhaps he was only pushing off the inevitable, but Sirus Black had a reason to persevere, and that reason was the fact that out in the world, the person who had murdered his best friends was living. Someday...he would figure out how to avenge them.  
  
With that thought in mind, he never expected visitors. His friends were dead or believed him to be a murderer of the worst kind. Who would visit him? His answer came when he saw a man standing at the edge of his cell door.  
  
“Black,” A cold voice sneered, “Is it really wise to be a dog?”  
  
Sirius Black was a man a second later, bark like laughter spilling over rotting teeth, “Severus Snape,” he rocked himself, still in the throes of laughter, “Have they invented a new form of torture for me? Sending greasy-”  
  
“If you want to insult the man who has come to be your liberation, I can turn around and leave right now,” Snape threatened coolly as another figure stepped around him. Now, Sirius fell silent, his eyes locked on the second man. All laughter was gone from his face, any color that may have been there, drained away.  
  
“Remus.”  
  
Remus Lupin looked older than he had when Sirius had seen him last. He was thinner with more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. When his amber eyes rested on the man who had once been his entire existence, Remus was filled with pain. Nodding his head ever so slightly, the wolf took a breath, “Hello, Sirius, ready to go home?”  
  
“I don’t even remember what home is, Remmy,” Sirius confessed from the back of his cell, swallowing hard, “Were you serious when you said you’d come to liberate me, Snivellus? Or are you just being cruel?” His answer came in the form of the cell opening. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the open doorway. The only thing that had kept him from freedom for nearly five years, “Did you find the Rat?”  
  
There was another clap of thunder, followed by more screams from the prisoners. Severus and Remus remained silent for a moment, and it weighed heavily on all three men. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Remus was finally the one to end it, walking into the cell and holding his hand out to Sirius, “Yes, but he got away. Let’s get you out of here, Padfoot.”  
  
Another heavy moment passed, but then Sirius accepted the hand that had been offered to him, “Harry? Where is Harry? Do you have him? The Rat can’t get to him, can he?” He stumbled against his old friend, shoulders shaking as relief flowed through him. Freedom. He was going to be free.  
  
“In due time, Black. For now, I think we should get out of here before the dementors decide to feast on what may or may not be left of your soul.” Severus interrupted, lip curled up in disgust at the site before him. Obviously, he felt he had better places to be.  
  
Sirius growled, but held fast onto his friend. Without another word, the trio made their way from the eery and painful prison halls. Sirius was in a daze as the wizard guards at the front presented him with his clothing and his wand. The entire process seemingly a dream to a man who believed that his entire life would be spent in hiding. Exhaustion hit as soon as the malnourished, abused man stepped out of the building into the fresh air which smelled of the storm that had just finished. The sun was peeking through the clouds as Sirius Black, the free man, sunk to his knees, unconscious before he felt Remus’s arms keeping his head from bashing off a rock.

 

_9:00 AM_

  
Remus Lupin was a simple man, and he had been made even more so over the past five years. After the death of two of his best friends, followed immediately by the ‘murder’ and incarceration of his remaining two friends, the man he loved, the werewolf had gone into isolation. Of course he had attempted to get custody of Harry, but with his condition, and for some reason, Albus Dumbledore’s insistence that Harry be sent to live with his blood-relations, Remus hadn’t stood a chance. Living in this small cottage, Remus made his living as a tutor to young witches and wizards whose families weren’t prejudiced enough to condemn him.  
  
Amber eyes flicked toward his couch where a man he believed had been a traitor less than twenty-four hours before was still sleeping. Remus watched Sirius’s concave chest rise and fall easily, his mangy hair hanging in his face. Grief at the time lost between them gnawed at his heart. Guilt that he hadn’t trusted Sirius to never to betray James and Lily tying his stomach in knots.  
  
_“Peter? But, you’re dead!” Remus shouted, eyes wide at the small man who was crouched down behind a bush. The rat man had looked up in alarm, stuttering Remus’s name before trying to bolt away, but it was too late. The damage had been done. It wasn’t only Remus in that park, and the moment enough people had verified the story, everyone knew that the wrong man had been imprisoned. Remus had run right to Dumbledore, who had pulled the strings to get Sirius out of the Hell of a prison. Of course, he would have his trial now, but until then, he would be staying with Remus; a free man._  
  
“If you stare any harder, your eyes are going to fall out of your head, Remmy,” Sirius mumbled, his eyes still closed. Immediately,  Remus was out of the chair, moving toward the raven haired man. Before kneeling down, he pulled some vials out of his robes, helping Sirius up before practically shoving the contents down his old friend’s throat.  
  
“What the bloody hell was that?” Sirius coughed, wiping his mouth with a dirty sleeve. Grey eyes rose to meet Remus’s gaze, finding the other man’s eyes filled with guilt. Somehow, Sirius could not find it in himself to try and make it disappear.  
  
“Severus brewed them for you, Sirius. They’re potions to help with your malnutrition as well as any injuries you hav-”  
  
“Snivellus brewed them? What if the snake poisoned me, Remus? Since when do we accept potions from Death Eaters?” Sirius barked, tempted to rush toward the sink and expunge the potions, but that would require too much movement, and damn it, he was in pain.  
  
“Snape isn’t a Death Eater, Sirius,” Remus sighed, gently pushing his friend back down, “You need to rest. Your body isn’t strong yet. No one could be after five years in that place.” The wolf insisted, meeting his friend’s eyes, his own full of regret, “I should have known, Sirius.  I should have realized that you would never betray our friends. I was lost in grief, and I was a coward.” It was all said in a breath, like a leak in a balloon that just couldn’t be stopped. Remus didn’t realize there were tears on his cheeks until Sirius reached up to brush them away with trembling fingers.  
  
  
Sirius wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream and hit something, but as he looked at his friend, he knew that it wasn’t just Azkaban that broke people. Grief and guilt were more oppressive than even the dementors. At least for Sirius, he had known that he was innocent. There had been a purpose for his continued existence: Get the Rat. Get Harry. For Remus, it seemed as if he’d had nothing to keep him going over the years.

 

After a moment of silence, Sirius finally let Remus ease him back onto the couch. He had to admit that the wolf was accurate enough about his body. There was an ache in his bones that he didn't think would ever go away entirely, but it was nothing compared to the gaping wound in his mind and heart, "It's in the past now, isn't it?" The shaggy haired man muttered, avoiding Remus's gaze. Forgiveness must be earned, and Sirius wasn't sure he'd ever actually be able to let go of this discretion completely, as much as it pained him to realize. Some mistakes simply could not be fixed, "Where is Harry? If you don't have him, who does?"

Remus forced himself away from Sirius's side, his chest feeling as if something very sharp and hot had been shoved through it. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it had been worse than this. At least the other man wasn't shutting him out completely. At the question, he lifted a hand to his head, letting out another very long breath. Sirius wasn't going to like his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! This was previously posted on FF. I've done a little bit of editing, but most of it is the original writing from two years ago, so if you can bare through the first few chapters, I promise the writing does improve. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Truth

_“All families have their secrets, most people would never know them, but they know there are spaces, gaps where the answers should be, where someone should have sat, where someone used to be. A name that is never uttered, or uttered just once and never again. We all have our secrets.”_

― Cecelia Ahern, _The Book of Tomorrow_

 

_July 30th, 1986_

 

Sometimes, in our own pride or sensibility, or perhaps the simple desire to believe we have done the right thing, it is possible to miss facts looking us right in the face. Albus Dumbledore was not a fool by any means. In fact, most would argue that he was easily the brightest mind of an age. He could not help but disagree in the current situation. Sitting behind his desk, the old wizard had his hands on the third letter this month from Petunia Dursley. His denials were starting to sound false even within his own mind as he reread the correspondence sent three days prior.

 

 _Dumbledore,_  
  
_I know you are reading these! I cannot make it more clear that the boy does not belong here! He is causing upset in my household that I simply cannot stand by and watch any longer. He will never belong here, and it is out of love for my sister that I implore you to fix this problem for the sake of everyone involved. I did not know it would be this incredibly challenging for my husband to accept. My own son is a challenge enough, and this extra stress is too much. If you do not find other arrangements, I will be forced to do so on my own._

_Petunia Evans Dursely._

  


Before he had let himself truly read the letter, or inquire farther, the ancient man had responded without thought.

 

 _Mrs. Dursely,_  
  
_Although it troubles me that you are having so much trouble with your nephew, we have spoken before about the fact that it is your blood that keeps him safe. There is no other arrangement that will protect both your family and young Harry safe, if the enemies of your sister should ever return to power. I will see, perhaps, about a short reprieve for your family? I know that Arabella Figg would be more than glad to take him off of your hands for a few days. I would be glad to make those arrangements for you._  
_Looking forward to hearing back from you,_ _  
_ Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

_Order of Merlin, First Class._

The doubt had snuck in as he had watched the owl fly away. What in heaven’s name would prompt her to send him so many messages at once? Of course, the added fact that Arabella had been owling him constantly was not lost on him. This had lead him to gathering the many files on his desk, after he had taken care of the matter of Sirius Black.  
  
Slender fingers flipped through the file again, leaving the twinkle in his eyes dimmed and the wrinkles on his face more defined. Flicking his wand, he sent his patronus off to bring Severus Snape to his office. If he trusted anyone to ease or confirm his worries, it would be Severus. He only hoped he wasn’t too busy with Delphi. When the door burst open only a few seconds later, Albus glanced up through his half mooned spectacles, surprised to find himself face to face with yet another person who had depended upon him, and he had let down.  

 

Sirius Black had cleaned himself up in the past five days. Already, the color of his skin had returned to a healthier shade. His hair had been trimmed nicely and cleaned, leaving soft waves to frame a smooth jaw. His eyes however, were bleak and angry pools of dark brown, “I have done everything you’ve asked me to  do, Dumbledore. I have cleaned up. Remus and I have been looking at apartments, and I have gone to the ministry so many times my fucking legs are going to fall off. I want to see Harry. I don’t _care_ if he has to go back to the muggles afterward, but I want to see him.” Sirius was on a tangent, and Dumbledore sighed.  
  
“If you would calm down for a moment, Sirius, we can discuss the possibility-” He began, only to be cut off by the entrance of Remus Lupin. Of course, Remus handled himself much better than Sirius at the given moment, but Albus couldn’t help but be amused by the stubborn set of the younger man’s brow and jaw. There was no doubt that the two had planned to  gang up on him.  
  
“I don’t want to discuss,” Sirius snapped, “I want you to tell me the damn address, so I can see my godson.” Little did the animagus realize that Albus was very close to letting him do just that. He turned to Remus, gesturing helplessly, “Tell him, Remus. Tell him I  genuinely don’t plan to kidnap him.” _Yet._

 

“Albus, I don’t see the harm in letting Harry come to visit,” Remus conceded, “For his birthday, and the fact that neither of us have seen or heard about him in five years.” Glancing over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps, Remus stood aside for the Head of Slytherin house.  
  
“You called for me, Headmaster?” Severus drawled, completely ignoring the two other angry men in the office with him. Albus met his gaze, and without a word, handed up the file he’d been reading. Severus raised an eyebrow, making no comment and ignoring the angry huffing of the dog. He had absolutely no idea what was in the file, or what it concerned, but the moment he opened it, his stomach filled with dread. There, staring up at him, were Lily Evan’s green eyes gazing up at him. Only the eyes were dimmed and in the head of a small boy who could have looked like James Potter were it not for the dark bruising across his cheek and the shadows under his eyes. The writing under the image claimed that the child was four in the picture, but he looked no bigger than a toddler. His arm was in a cast, and, as he read on, Severus found that there were more injuries than could be seen in the image.            

 

Flipping past the picture, he didn’t dare raise his gaze to Dumbledore, sure that he would see the rage boiling in their jet black depths. The second page was about the CPS report. There wasn’t enough evidence, and the story that the boy had fallen from the tree out back had held up. Bullshit. Severus didn’t need to see anymore. With precise movements, he rested the file on the desk again, turning his gaze to Dumbledore, wordless condemnation communicated in a single glance, “Are you ready to leave, Black?” He suddenly snapped, turning to glare at Sirius.  
  
Taken aback, the other man sneered, “What’s it to you, Snape?” His eyes darted to the file, almost curious, “I’m not leaving until Albus tells me where my Godson-”  
  
“We’re going to get Potter, so if you would follow me.” Without a word to Albus, Snape turned to the door, robes billowing out behind him, “Albus, if you would make sure that Trix is in bed if I am not back before nine.” Considering the fact that it was hardly afternoon, he doubted it would be necessary.  
  
Sharing a startled glance with Remus, and wondering who the hell Trix was, Sirius bolted after the dark wizard, leaving Dumbledore alone in his office to come to terms with his guilt.

  
  


* * *

 

 _Wax on. Wax off. Wax on. Wax off._ The cute little mantra was playing through Harry’s mind as he struggled to wash the kitchen floor on his hands and knees, something sharp prodding his lungs each and every time he breathed, but the little boy knew it would only get worse if he didn’t get all of his chores done by the time Uncle Vernon woke up from his nap. It was less time than usual, because his Uncle had taken the day off of work just to make sure that Harry didn’t step a toe out of line. Apparently, he’d been extra bad again, because the nice people in the fancy suits had showed up at the door again, asking about him. Uncle Vernon had, of course, gotten them to go away after showing them ‘Harry’s’ drawings that he’d hung up in the hallway.  
  
A small rumbling filled the room, and for a moment, the soon-to-be six year old was very confused as to where it was coming from, but then he realized his belly was actually growling, “Shh,” he scolded his body. There was a point that he got to, where his body stopped reacting to being hungry, but Aunt Petunia had been sneaking him crackers and bread over the last few nights, so his tummy wanted more. It was all really confusing to Harry, who sometimes wondered why Dudley was allowed to have seconds and thirds when Harry wasn’t even allowed firsts.  
  
Of course, Harry knew the answer when he thought about it. Dudley got good things because he was a good boy, and his parents loved him very much. Harry was a bad ‘freak’ child, whose stupid parents died in a car wreck, and left him to burden Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He’d been told so often enough, and when you’re five-going-on-six, you trusted what had literally been beaten into your brain.  
  
His thoughts were broken by a knock on the door, and he moved so quickly he knocked over his bucket of water. Black dots danced around his vision as panic flooded his every sense, numbing the pain in his small body. Oh, no, oh no. He’d spilled the water. Frantically, he started to try and mop it up with his already soaked shirt, tears streaming down his cheeks. Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to be happy. He wasn’t going to be happy at all.

  
  


“If you don’t stop shifting like an idiot, I will curse you,” Snape snapped at Sirius as he waited on the stoop of the obscenely muggle house. He didn’t care that Remus put an easing hand on Sirius’s shoulder to hold him still. It was about bloody time.  Tension rolled off of his body in waves, and the horse like woman who answered the door didn’t put him at ease in the least, “Petunia,” he greeted, voice like ice. There was a disturbing amount of relief on her face when she saw who it was.  
  
“You.” She gasped, opening the door, “You’re here to-”  
  
“Petunia, who’s at the door?” A male voice called from the top of the steps, voice weary. It was only a few moments later that he stood behind his wife, beady eyes narrowing as he took in the appearance of the three men on his stoop, “You lot, eh? Go away, we don’t want the neighbors to think we let freaks on our stoop.”  
  
Sirius growled, but Snape shot him a glare of warning before turning back to the oaf of a man, “We’re here for the boy. We’ll be off of your porch as soon as you let us see him.” It was no struggle to keep himself calm as he looked at Vernon Dursely, but that didn’t stop the sneer of disgust that curled up on his lip when he spoke  next, “Trust me, we have no interest to be in your home.”  
  
Vernon’s face was going through a barrage of colors and shapes as he opened his mouth, a hand on Petunia’s shoulder, “The boy is at school, so maybe you lot haven’t heard of phoning ahead before you come for a visit. Regardless, I made it very clear when we took that boy in that we wouldn’t be putting up with any freakyness here, which means your lot nee-”  
  
“Except Harry isn’t at school,” Sirius snarled, stepping up beside Snape, wand out and pointing at the man. His eyes were burning, “Where is my Godson? Don’t think I won’t curse your fa-”  
  
“Vernon, stop,” Petunia’s voice seemed less shrill, less obnoxious, “This has gone on long enough. I asked them to come.” Her nose was in the air, everything about her body language reading disgust, but Snape wondered just who she was disgusted with, “He’s in the kitchen, please come in quickly before the neighbors see.” She pushed her husband aside, ushering the three men into the house.  
  
Snape met her gaze, offering the smallest of nods before brushing past, Sirius threatening to pass him if he didn’t keep moving. From behind him, he heard Remus asking where Harry’s room was, but he stopped hearing the moment he stepped into the disgustingly clean kitchen with a damp floor. His stomach tightened, “Boy?”  
  
Sirius on the other hand, who hadn’t seen the files, was confused by the entire situation. At least until he heard a small sound coming from the pantry. It sounded like a wounded animal, but it couldn’t have been, because there was a phrase mixed between the small whimpers.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Just the same small, innocent words laced together brought tears rushing to the dog-man’s eyes. Glancing toward his childhood nemesis, he quickly moved toward the cupboard, “Harry?” He murmured, breathing picking up at the sight that befell him, “Oh, Harry,” he murmured, reaching out to the soaking wet child hiding under his shirt.  
  
“No!” The little boy pleaded, trying to disappear farther into the cupboard, “I  cleaned it up, Uncle Vernon. I cleaned it up. I’m sorry.” His words were too crisp for that of a five year old, each sharp and clear sound uttered a knife in Snape’s gut. This was Lily’s child, and they had all failed him.

 

“You aren’t in trouble, Harry. My name is Sirius,” Sirius tried desperately to get Harry to come a bit farther out. Snape wanted to walk out of the room and curse the entire family for doing this to a child. Memories of his own abusive childhood plagued him as Sirius continued to try and coax little Harry out of the corner. A green eye peeked out, gazing at them in fear.  
  
Severus was hardly aware of the shouting from the other room, part of his mind impressed that the soft spoken werewolf knew that sort of language, but he made sure his main focus was on Harry, “Po- Harry,” He quickly corrected himself, knowing that his hatred of the boy’s father had no place here, “Come out here.” His voice was still that same, low, forceful volume that he seldom changed. He almost regretted using it when the abused child flinched, but then he was standing up, swaying slightly and stumbling toward the kitchen.  
  
“We aren’t going to hurt you, Harry,” Sirius murmured, kneeling down beside the frightened child. Harry’s eyes, Snape noted, were locked on the ground. There was going to be a lot of healing needed, but if he was anything like his mother, he would manage, and Severus couldn’t doubt that. The moment Sirius reached out, Harry flinched and braced himself, ready for a blow. Merlin, how often was this child beaten?  
  
“Sirius,” Snape murmured, catching both the other man and himself off guard by the use of his first name, “Step into the hall and send the dog in.” He locked eyes with Sirius, who was confused at first, but then nodded, standing and disappearing into the other room, “Petunia!” Snape called, tempted to snicker as the muggles in the other room screamed, most likely at the fact that a man had just turned into a dog in their front hall. A moment later, Padfoot came plodding in, smearing muddy prints all over the floor and moving to Harry.  
  
The little boy looked at the dog for a moment, glancing up at Snape, “We aren’t s’posed to have puppies in here,” he whispered, eyes flicking toward the door, “Uncle Vernon hates puppies.” That didn’t stop his little hands from reaching out and stroking Sirius’s back, “Dudley wanted one for a long time,” Harry mumbled, “But when he got it, he got angry at it and kicked it dow-” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d been saying and he shut up quickly, focusing on petting the dog.  
  
It was of no concern to Severus, he was too busy listening to the breathless way the boy spoke. He wasn’t aware when he’d decided to  kneel, but he was suddenly at eye level with the child, “Does it hurt to breath, Harry?” He asked softly as Sirius nuzzled against Harry’s hand. He didn’t even glance up when Petunia came stomping in.  
  
“What are you waiting for?!” She hissed, “Take him, before my husband tries to stop you!” Snape stood slowly, turning ice cold eyes to the woman. Disgust showed plainly on his face, “You need to tell him to come with us, or he’s going to  fight because you and your husband hav-” Taking a calming breath, he knelt back down beside the boy and the dog, “Harry, you are going to come with us.”  
  
Harry’s head shot up in surprise. He hadn’t answered the question about it being hard to breathe, knowing that Uncle Vernon wouldn’t want him to, but he glanced up at his Aunt, who gave a sharp nod, “Okay,” he whispered, “Can we bring the dog?”  
  
Severus gave a cold chuckle, “I think you’re going to find that the dog is impossible to get rid of.” It was then that a red faced Remus came storming into the kitchen, his wand still out.  
  
“I was going to get his things, but apparently, he _has no things,_ ” He raged, before blinking down at the scene before him, “Oh Merlin,” he mumbled.  
  
Severus could see that this was too much for the little boy, who was clinging to the dog, “Was I bad, Aunt Petunia? Was a worse than usual? Are these the people from the orphanage who feed bad kids to the rats? I’m sorry, Aunt Petunia! I’ll be better! I’ll be a good boy! Don’t send me away!” Snape raised his wand, gently tapping the fretting child on the head. He slumped right into the potion master’s arms.  
  
Without delay, Severus stood, sneering openly at Petunia, “This will _not_ be the last time you hear from us.” For now, though, they needed to take care of Harry. Vengeance would come later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N If I could get the damn formatting down, I'd be quite happy. I haven't done HTML in far too long. Ah well. Such is life. Hope you were able to enjoy it anyway!


	3. The Snake

_ “Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . ."”  _

_ ―  _ _ C.S. Lewis _ _ ,  _ _ The Four Loves _

 

_ July 30th, 1986. 9:23 PM _

 

Shouting. Harry was distinctly aware of angry shouting and he automatically tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible, “‘m sorry! ‘m sorry!” He mumbled, crying out as someone touched him. It was a light touch, but he reacted the same.   
  
“Harry! Harry, stay still, we’re just trying to help the pain stop!” A voice begged, the gentle hand still on his arm. Harry didn’t care. Harry couldn’t think, and his terror was enough to keep him from opening his eyes. Why couldn’t he be in his cupboard? Why had Uncle Vernon sent him away? Was he really such a bad boy that he deserved to be taken away from his cupboard? Were these people going to beat him, too? Eventually, he fell still again, too tired to fight. With his eyes closed, he felt a warm thing wrapped around his body, and he knew the strangers in the room thought he’d fallen asleep.

 

“Poppy, when can you give him more potions?” A worried voice, that Harry would later learn belonged to Remus Lupin, asked quietly. Potions? What were potions? The little boy had heard the word in stories at school, but never often enough to know what they actually meant.

 

“In the morning,” A woman replied softly, and Harry felt a hand, wrinkled and older, gently brushing his hair away from his face, “He’s so starved that if we try to give him more right now, they’ll just make him sick. I’ve healed what I can, but those ribs are going to be a problem. Three breaks and countless cracks that have healed incorrectly. Helga bless him, how can anyone do that to a child?”   
  
His ribs were broken? That explained why it hurt him to breathe before, right? Harry mulled over what she was saying, hearing, but not exactly comprehending. Honestly, the little boy was just afraid of what would happen to him now. Would they send him back to his Uncle and Aunt? Would they send him to the orphanage where they cooked unwanted children into stews and served them to the other kids? Was there a third option?    
  
“I don’t know, Poppy,” This was another man, the one who had tried to get him to come out of the cupboard before going to get the dog. Harry didn’t understand why the voice registered somewhere within his brain; in that place that he sometimes found when he tried to remember his parents before the car wreck, “But the bastards won’t get away with hurting my godson.”   
  
“You just got out of prison, Padfoot,” the first man said softly, “You still need to heal, too. Let Albus ta-”   
  
“Fuck that!” Was the sharp reply, “Albus won’t be coming anywhere  _ near _ Harry. He’s the reason that he was with that b-”   
  
“Calm yourself, Black,” Yet another voice joined in with the others, cold enough to make Harry shiver under the blanket, “This can all be dealt with in the- Trix? Child, you are supposed to be in bed.” He sighed, and there was a shuffling of smaller feet, the door banging, and then Harry couldn’t keep himself from drifting off to sleep. A white, warm fog settling over his mind.    
  
_ July 31st 1 AM _

 

This time, when Harry became aware of his surroundings, it was quiet. He rested there for a moment, eyes closed, as he tried to figure out where he could possibly be. His body didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before. Actually, he couldn’t remember a time when his body felt  _ this _ good. The only unfamiliar feeling was that of something heavy resting against his legs. Dulled green eyes peeled open, flicking down to the black dog curled up at the base of the bed. That was odd, but somewhat comforting. He’d always loved animals- well, barring Aunt Marge’s beasts.    
  
Something moved to the side of the bed, and automatically Harry’s eyes moved toward it. He let out an alarmed sound when he came face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes. They were on the face of a girl who looked around his age.    
  
Surprised, Harry sat up, wincing and putting a small hand to his bandaged ribs. Alright, perhaps he wasn’t all better. Looking at the girl, he stuttered softly, “W-Who are you?” He kept the blanket pulled up to his chin, watching the dog lift its head to watch them. It let out a little growl at the girl, resting his head on Harry’s leg. Absentmindedly, Harry reached down, stroking the shaggy hair.    
  
“You’re Harry Potter,” The little girl told him, ignoring his question, brushing short strands of black hair away from her face. Her eyes seemed slightly bug-eyed, her jaw too sharp, her lips too thick...she reminded him of a praying mantis.    
  
Harry nodded slightly, “Uh huh,” he mumbled, looking around the room again, before he worked up the courage to ask his question again, “Who’re you?” He watched her unsmiling face again, waiting for some sort of answer. She was sort of weirding him out, but he knew better than to be rude. Uncle Vernon would find out, and then he’d be hurt all over again.    
  
Her lip twitched up, “Delphini Trix Snape, but I go by Trix,” she told him promptly, looking down at the dog with a smirk worthy of her father. If she knew his secret, she kept it to herself, “You’re at Hogwarts now, and I’m not supposed to be in here, but I saw my Papa bring you in! So, I snuck out.”    
  
“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble?” Harry asked with wide eyes. He didn’t know her very well, but he didn’t want her to get beaten for coming to visit him or something, “What’s Hogwarts?” Harry had never really been able to talk to children his own age, simply because Dudley told them all what a freak he was before he ever had the chance to make friends. 

  
“I’ll sneak before anyone can catch me!” Trix replied, smoothing her little hands on the bed, “Hogwarts is the best place in the whole world to be,” she told him simply, “It’s where we get to learn magic someday.”   
  
Harry nearly gasped, looking at her with wide eyes, “Magic isn’t real, Trix,” he whispered, looking around as if someone would hear her, “Only bad people talk about magic...freaks.”   
  
Trix frowned, shaking her head and looking as if someone had ruffled her feathers, “That’s a lie, Harry Potter. Magic is wonderful. We aren’t freaks. Are you a muggle?”   
  
“A what?”

  
“A muggle. Someone who isn’t lucky enough to have magic powers. Someone really, really boring,” The little girl replied, shrugging, “I heard the grown ups talking about the bad muggles who hurt you. Are you hurt? Well, I know you are, but if you’re trying to keep it a secret…” She frowned at herself, obviously upset that she lacked the words. Her frown deepened when Harry seemed to be having trouble breathing as he shook his head. The dog stood, teeth bared, but she ignored him too, “Hey, don’t cry! Here! I’ll tell you one of my secrets, so we’re even.” She reached up to the snake pendant around her neck and tugged it off.    
  
Harry was torn between shutting his eyes and covering his ears and watching what this strange girl could possibly do with the necklace, “Magic. Isn’t. Real. Don’t say that! You’ll get a beating for that!” He gasped.   
  
Trix blinked at him, snorting, “Silly boy. Just watch.” She held the small charm on her palm, and even the puppy seemed entranced.    
  


_“Dance.”_ She ordered, and though Harry heard the word and understood it, the dog bared it’s teeth again, slinking down at growling as the snake started to squirm on her palm, moving up her arm slightly, “I’m not supposed to show people that I can do that, cuz my papa says they’ll want to hurt me for being different,” the little girl explained bluntly, “But you look so scared, so now, if you get in trouble, I’ll get in trouble, too.”  
  
Harry barely heard her. He couldn’t take his eyes off the snake as he continued to stroke the dog’s fur. After a moment, he tilted his head to the side, breath easing. What she’d said made sense, so he whispered, “ _Stop.”_   
  
Everything in the room seemed to stand still as the snake curled back into a charm. Harry nervously looked up at the other child, gulping. Was she going to rat on him? How long would he be locked in the cupboard for showing his ‘freaky’ side.

 

To his surprise, however, Trix slowly smiled, the act causing her entire face to soften, “ _ You can talk to snakes, too?” _

Harry hesitated before nodding, “ _ There was a little snake that lived in Aunt Petunia’s garden for the summer, and I made a little house for him before Uncle Vernon cut off his head, but I talked to him more than I talked to anybody else.”  _ He murmured softly. For some reason, speaking in the small hisses was easier than talking normally. Maybe it was because he realized that not everyone could understand what he was saying. He suddenly liked this girl a lot more, “ _ You’re a freak, too, aren’t you, Trix?” _ __   
__   
_ “I don’t like that word, Harry Potter,” _ Trix scowled, crossing her arms over her chest, but letting the snake charm remain on the bed, “ _ We aren’t freaks. We’re special.” _ __   
  


Harry glanced around, afraid for another moment that he was going to be discovered...but they were actually alone, and for the first time in his short life, Harry didn’t feel so alone. He looked back at the girl,  _ “Are there more special people like us?” _ He  wasn’t so sold on ‘special’, but if she didn’t get beaten for saying such things, maybe, for a little bit, he could pretend he was ‘special’.   
  
Trix nodded,  _ “Yes and No. We can do more than talk to snakes, but other people can’t talk to snakes, understand? You mustn’t tell, alright?”  _ Her lip twitched as if she were trying to keep from smiling.   
  
Harry tensed. Maybe he’d been celebrating too quickly, “ _ Will we get in trouble?” _

 

Trix snorted, “Only if we tell,” she’d returned to English, holding her small pinky out, “And I swear I won’t tell if you don’t tell. We’ll pinky promise, and you can’t break pinky promises, Harry Potter.”    
  
For the first time since he’d arrived, Harry actually smiled. He took her pinky with his own, shaking it once, “I pinky promise not to tell.” Both children tensed when they heard footsteps drawing closer, “Y-You better sneak out!” Harry urged, still not wanting to get her into trouble.   
  
Trix scrambled up, reaching for the pendant. She grabbed it, but then paused before pushing it into Harry’s hands, “I’ll sneak back soon, cuz there are no other kids around right now.” She seemed to vibrate with energy, bouncing on her heals excitedly, “And I’ll bring other magic stuff and teach you. I’ll be a good teacher, Harry Potter. I promise.” She smirked again, waving before darting toward the wall.   
  
Harry watched, confused as she started poking the wall. Why would she do that? Was she crazy? Then, the most amazing thing happened. The wall  **giggled** and a small section slid to the side, revealing a tunnel. Trix didn’t even glance over her shoulder as she disappeared inside, the wall sliding back into place a moment later. Harry could only stare, slack jawed.    
  
Meanwhile, the shaggy dog was looking at Harry with far more focus than should have been possible from an animal. Carefully, he stood, shaking his fur out and moving to nudge Harry back down. Sirius’s mind was racing faster and faster, but his first concern was keeping Harry healthy. The rest, well, the rest could be dealt with later. He let out a small huff of satisfaction as the little boy lay back on the pillow, green eyes looking up at the ceiling. Sirius watched him, eyes gleaming with love as he licked his cheek lightly.    
  
A little hand reached out, shaking as it stroked his snout, “I think this must be a dream, dog,” he whispered to the animal, “I think if I go to sleep again, I’ll wake up in my cupboard again and have to make Uncle Vernon breakfast again.”   
  
Sirius’s heart broke and he nudged his shoulder gently, watching Harry struggle to stay awake. Laying down carefully beside him, he rested his head on his stomach, letting one eye remain trained on his godson.   
  
“I like this dream, though,” Harry yawned, “Can I stay in it forever? There’s a lot of yelling, but at least I haven’t got caught being bad, which is nice.” His voice drifted lower and lower, eyelashes fluttering. He gripped the charm close to his chest in one hand, the other remaining on the dog as he fought sleep, “I don’t usually dream ‘bout being special instead of a freak, but I like it, dog. I really do…” He trailed off, finally succumbing to exhaustion. The room was silent for a moment, the footsteps outside getting louder until the door pushed open quietly.    
  
“Sirius,” Remus murmured, “You’re never going to get any sleep like this. Go, I’ll sit with him for a while.” He eased himself into the seat that Trix had previously been in. The dog carefully moved out from under Harry’s hand, dropping beside the bed and shifting into a man once again a moment later.   
  
“First of all,” He whispered back, “You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving him. Second of all,” his eyes flicked toward the wall where the little girl had disappeared, “I think we’re in for a hell of a ride, Remmy. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”


	4. The Confrontation

_ “Betrayal is an ironic thing. He or she betrays you then you betray yourself. You think you’re showing strength with your anger, but in reality you’re showing how much you still care.”  _

―  Shannon L. Alder

  
  


Chairs, it would seem, were not the most comfortable place to fall asleep. In fact, Sirius was almost sure that he’d prefer the floor as his dark eyes fluttered opened, cramped limbs aching to be stretched out. He made a sound, more dog than human as he stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck slightly, “Are you awake, Harry?” He asked, still not quite alert or aware of what exactly had woke him up. His gaze flicked to the bed, and his heart stopped, “Harry?” The soreness in his body was washed away by raw panic, “Harry?” 

 

The bed was empty.    
  
“G’back to sleep, Sirius,” Remus grumped at him. The man had curled up in his own chair, the arm pressed into his cheek.   
  
“Harry isn’t in his bed, Remus. You. Wake. Up,” Sirius lashed out at him with his foot, making the chair teeter. If the words hadn’t been enough to rouse the werewolf, the tipping chair did the trick. The raggedy man was up in an instant.   
  
“What?” His head snapped toward the bed, “Oh,  no. Oh, no. Harry?” He looked around frantically, “Where could he have gone?! He shouldn’t be out of bed. Oh Merlin.”   
  
“Don’t panic,” Sirius snapped, though it was very clear he was extremely close to panic himself, “He can’t have gone far,  come on!” Bolting toward the door, Sirius kept his eyes peeled, but apparently not well enough, because a few steps in, he very nearly skidded into the wall, “What the-”   
  
“The floor is wet,” Remus observed, confused as he rubbed his eyes, continuing toward the door, following the impeccable shine of freshly scrubbed floor, “Harry?” He called, “Harry, sweetheart, where are you hiding?” Feeling Sirius on his heals, Remus followed his hunch, a sick feeling in his gut, and continued after the cleaned floor.   
  
“Since when did house elves use a mop?” Sirius asked, practically vibrating with worry. He should never have fallen asleep. What if the little boy had run off and hurt himself? He wasn’t healthy enough to be wandering around. What if he managed to get out of the castle and into the forest?! How long had he been gone? The questions swirled and swirled in an agonizing mist as the pair continued down the hallway...until the trail- and the search- came to an abrupt  halt. There, right where the floor became dry and a bucket and rag were discarded to the side, sat none other than Albus Dumbledore with a very tired looking boy on his lap.    
  
Harry, much to Sirius’s chagrin, looked quite content to be there. His eyes were lit up curiously as he sucked lightly on a green lollipop, listening to Dumbledore speak.   
  


“And you see, Harry, that is exactly why my socks don’t match. Ah, your godfathers have found us,” Dumbledore  told him kindly,  looking up at the younger men, “Goodmorning, Gentlemen. Harry and I decided to let you sleep a bit longer.”   
  
Sirius could feel rage brewing under his skin as he looked at the old man, “How kind of you,” he bit out, but immediately regretted it when Harry flinched away. Rolling his shoulders, Sirius sank down onto his haunches, trying to meet Harry’s gaze with a small, soft smile, “Why’d you get out of bed so  early, Harry?” He glanced toward Remus for approval, earning a subtle nod.    
  
“I had to do the chores,” Harry replied quietly, one hand clenched in Dumbledore’s robes, eyes wide in fear.   
  
“Apparently,” Dumbledore said pleasantly, “At his Aunt’s home, Harry woke up with the sun to scrub the floors and make breakfast for his Uncle.” There was a lack of sparkle in his eyes, an ancient quality in his voice, “Somehow, he convinced one of the house elves to get him a wash bucket and he’s been scrubbing away since six o’clock this morning.”    
  
Sirius felt his heart break and he had to force himself to calm down, “You don’t have to do that here, Harry.  No one is going to make you clean.”    
  
Harry blinked, “I-I don’t mind,” he stuttered out, “It’s all that I’m good at. Uncle Vernon says so.”   
  
“Your Uncle was wrong, Harry. I’m sure there are loads of things you’re  good at,” Remus chimed in.   
  
“We were just discussing that,  actually,” Dumbledore continued, “As a matter of fact, Harry is excellent at observing. He noticed right away that my socks are different colors. We have also talked about how sweet he is for worrying about my getting in trouble, because in his old home, matching was very important.”   
  
Harry’s thumb had made its way into his mouth as he watched the grownups talk about him. He knew better than to chime in with anything, but he was torn. They had to know that he was no good, or they’d be really upset when they figured it out. A word that Dumbledore said stuck out in his brain, “‘Old’ home, Mr. Dumble, sir?” He suddenly looked very scared again, “Are you going to send me to  the orphanage?  Do my Aunt and Uncle not want to put up with my freakyness anymore?”    
  
There was a beat of silence, and Harry feared he’d upset them all. It was Dumbledore who could finally speak, “No, Harry. We are not going to send you to the orphanage.”   
  
“You’re going to stay here and live with us,” Sirius whispered, voice tight, “If you want, that is, but you won’t ever have to  go back to live with your aunt and uncle again. You won’t even have to  _ see _ them, again.”   
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly, but Sirius ignored him. No, he would not allow those monsters anywhere near his godson ever again. He felt a surge of support flood through him as Remus knelt down at his side, a hand moving subtly to his back as if Remus was using him  for support as well, “We’d all be very happy if you stay with us, Harry,” the soft spoken man urged, “We’d like to make you part of our family.”   
  
Harry, for some reason he didn’t understand, felt tears well up in his eyes. He wiped them away frantically. Uncle Vernon made him soak his head when he cried like a baby, “Y-You want me to stay?”    
  
“Of course we do,” Sirius replied, “You’re very special to us, Harry. I know you  don’t know us very well, but we were there when you were born. Your parents wanted us to take care of you.”    
  
Harry opened his mouth again, but this time, there was another screech from down the hallway.

 

“SIRIUS BLACK, I TOLD YOU THAT BABY WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN BED.” The medi-witch screamed, bursting out of the door in a rage, “HE IS NOT HEALTHY. HIS BONES NEED TO HEAL, AND I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A PLATTER-”   
  
Almost immediately, Harry scrambled off of Dumbledore’s lap, whimpering and scuttling to the corner, hands over his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He didn’t expect soft arms to come around him or lift him up- he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been carried.   
  
“Shh,” Sirius whispered as Dumbledore went to head off the furious Poppy, “You’re not in trouble, Harry. It’s alright. She’s just worried about you.” Cradling the shaking child to his chest, Sirius shot Poppy a look that would have made even the bravest men tremble, “We’re going to go back to the bed now, alright? And Mooney can get us some books to read. Would you like that?” They were moving now, already through the doors of the infirmary.    
  
“I like books,” Harry whispered, looking up at the man with something akin to awe, “Sometimes, when people that didn’t know Dudley very well got him books for Christmas or his birthday, he’d play target practice with me.”   
  
Sirius frowned, gently setting the little boy on the bed and propping his chin on his hand, “Target practice?” The man had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the story very much, and the feeling only intensified as Harry started wringing his hands around the small snake Sirius knew he was hiding, “Its alright to tell me, Harry. I promise, you  won’t get in any trouble for telling me what happened at your Uncle’s. In fact, I want to hear all about it.”    
  
“Pinky promise?” Harry asked, holding his pinky out. The man’s finger wrapped around his lightly.   
  
“Pinky Promise, Kiddo.” He smiled weakly, reaching up to tuck some hair out of Harry’s face. The flinch made him want to cry.    
  
“Okay,” Harry seemed satisfied as let go of Sirius’s finger, “Uncle Vernon said that he wanted Dudley to be a good shot,” he kept talking as Poppy started fussing over him again, Remus and Albus talking in the corner, “So when he got books, Uncle Vernon used to make me stand against the wall, and he’d have Dudley stand across the room and aim right here.” He poked at his scar, “He wasn’t a very good shot, though. Once, he hit me in the eye.” The way Harry spoke of it was as if it was normal. As if there was nothing at all wrong with it. Sirius was going to kill the fat bastard, “When they were done and I’d finished all my chores, I’d sneak the books into my cupboard. I was the best reader in kindergarten.” There, at least, was a hint of pride.    
  
Sirius was speechless, and for a moment, Harry was afraid he was angry. Then he did something that caught him really off guard. The dark man reached trembling hands out and gently cupped Harry’s face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”   
  
Harry frowned, “You didn’t do nothing wrong, Mr.” He was obviously confused.   
  
Sirius chuckled darkly, “I didn’t keep you safe, Harry. That was very wrong of me.” He kissed the top  of his head, “Now, tell me, what is your favorite snack food?”   
  
At first, Harry wasn’t sure why Sirius had changed the subject.  Then, he was just confused in general, “The stuff Dudley gets?” He winced when Sirius’s gaze darkened again, “I like..apples.”   
  
“Have you ever had candy, Harry? Crisps? Cakes?” Sirius asked, flexing and unflexing his fists under the bed.   
  
“I had lots of lolipops in school,”  Harry replied, chewing on his lips, “But...nothing else…”   
  
“Okay,” Sirius replied, smiling again, “Well, as soon as Madam Pompfrey says that it’s okay, we’re gonna go on a trip and you can get any sort of food that you want.”    
  
Harry didn’t dare believe it. He glanced around, frowning, “Mr. Sirius-”   
  
“Call me Padfoot,” Sirius interjected.   
  
“Mr. Padfoot,” Harry nodded,  not noticing Sirius’s sigh, “What happened to the doggy? Did he run away?” He looked so heartbroken, but Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.   
  
“No, Harry. Remember last night when your friend talked to you about magic?” He lowered his voice so only Harry could hear, predicting the little boy’s reaction pretty well. Right away, green eyes flicked around.   
  
“Don’t tell on me, Mr. Padfoot. Please don’t tell on Trix,” Harry begged, calming only when Sirius stroked his hair again.   
  
“All of your secrets are safe with me, Harry,” He promised, “She isn’t going to get into trouble.”   
  
“How did you know?” Harry whispered, “There was nobody else in here…”

  
“Magic, Harry,” Sirius whispered, “I’m going to show you something, okay? But you have to promise to stay calm, okay. Pinky Promise.” He held out his pinky again, not at all sure if this was a good idea or not, but he had to give it a shot. There was not going to be an easy way to introduce his godson to magic.    
  
Harry hesitated only a second before linking their fingers together, “Okay. I pinky promise.” Something sparked in his eyes, perhaps curiosity, perhaps wonder.    
  
Taking a deep breath, Sirius stepped back, “Okay, here I go, Harry.”   
  
“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus called from the door, voice weary.   
  
“Just,” Sirius breathed, “Trust me.” And then, in the place where he had stood, was a very shaggy, very nervous, dog. He wagged his tail, letting it beat against the floor as he waited for Harry to react.    
  
For a moment, the little boy just looked at him blankly. His fists raised to rub his eyes, “You. You turned into a doggy.” He muttered, more to himself, “A doggy…” Sirius jumped up onto the bed, lickign Harry’s face and hands, eyes pleading. All at once, Harry started laughing and laughing, “You turned into a dog, Mr. Padfoot. A real live dog.”    
  
Satisfied that his little experiment had worked, Sirius let Harry curl around him, petting him and giggling until he fell asleep nearly half an hour later. Maybe, just maybe there was some hope for a quick recovery. Sirius could only pray it could be so. Carefully untangling himself from little arms, Sirius snorted at Poppy as if to say ‘take care of him, or I”ll eat you.’ He moved quickly down the hall where Albus and Remus had disappeared. There was much to be discussed. 

* * *

  
  
“No, Albus. I agree with Sirius on this one. You can’t possibly want to send that little boy back with those..I hesitate to call them people.” Remus was sighing, face in his hands.    
  
“I assure you, Remus, I don’t want to send him back- not by any means, but there are certain matters that must be discussed-”   
  
“There will be no discussion,” Sirius said calmly from the doorway, eyes burning, “In fact, I’m not sure why Remus and I should dignify you with any sort of conversation at all, old man.” His posture was perfect, his words clipped. Remus could sense the storm that was headed right toward Dumbledore, and for once, he wasn’t going to do anything to stop it.    
  
“Sirius,  I know you are very angry. I am angry, too. Mr. Dursely has been taken into custody on the grounds of child abuse, and I assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that he remains behind bars. He will be punished to the fullest extent of the muggle la-”   
  
“Shut up,” Sirius snarled, stalking toward him, “Just shut up. I don’t want to hear about how the lard will be punished- no, that is a lie, but I will see to that later. Right now I want to hear about how  _ you _ will be held responsible. Don’t you dare tell me that there were no signs that Harry was being abused. Don’t tell me that you couldn’t have stopped what was happening, because we all know that you are far more capable than the average man. How did you let the little boy we all love grow in the hands of a man who literally made it his goal to destroy any sense of love Harry received?” He was standing on the other side of the desk, hands shaking. This time, he was quiet, waiting for an answer.    
  
Dumbledore sat there for a moment before removing his glasses. The wrinkles in his face seemed more defined, and for the first time in recollection, Albus Dumbledore seemed hopeless, “My apologies are useless, Sirius,” he replied gravely, tears brimming in his eyes.   
  
“Damn right they are,” The dog man growled, “And it isn’t me who deserves an apology. It is my Godson. The little boy who thinks he is unlovable.”  

  
Dumbledore nodded, “I swear to you, Sirius, I will do everything in my power to make this right. I know it means very little now, and I know I have let you down in so many ways, but trust me when I say this. We will keep Harry safe.”    
  
“No,” Sirius laughed bitterly, brandishing a finger at him, “ _ Remus and I _ will keep Harry safe. You will be lucky if we let you see him. If you so much as raise a finger to hinder us in any way, I will fight for him, and make sure you are never able to manipulate his life again.” And with that, Sirius Black stormed out of the office, Remus close at his heels.   



	5. The Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some angry sex in this chapter, just a heads up! And I apologize for the length of this chapter.

_“For there are two kinds of forgiveness in the world: the one you practice because everything really is all right, and what went before is mended. The other kind of forgiveness you practice because someone needs desperately to be forgiven, or because you need just as badly to forgive them, for a heart can grab hold of old wounds and go sour as milk over them.”_

― Catherynne M. Valente , _The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There_

 

* * *

 

“Sirius!” Remus didn’t understand how, even after five years of Azkaban,  Sirius still managed to be faster than him. He could feel the anger and the tension that had been building over the last few days practically suffocating his...friend? Lover? There were so many things they needed to talk about. “We need to talk. Wait, please.”  


“There isn’t a thing to talk about, _Remus._ We might’ve had something to talk about before Harry was nearly beaten to death and I still had all of my soul. For tonight, though, there is nothing to talk about.” The words were aimed to hurt as Sirius veered into the rooms that the castle had provided for them. Together. Of course.

 

Remus recoiled, but pursued him. He wouldn’t let him shut him out. “You still have all of your soul, Sirius. Please slow down.”  
  
“Piss off, Remus.” Sirius slammed the door shut.   
  
Remus heard him throwing things from the other side, perhaps heard the cork of a firewhiskey bottle being yanked out. He sank onto the sofa, face in his hands. How had things gotten to be such a mess?

 

He knew the answer. Things were a mess because he had been a coward and a fool on that Halloween. Working late with the order, he had left Sirius alone for the umpteenth time. Stress tore couples apart. They knew that. They had discussed it at length with wine and tears, but they always came back to the same point. They loved each other. They would work it out. The war couldn't last forever.

 

And then the owl had come, telling him that James and Lily were dead, taking Voldemort with them. Sirius had been their secret keeper, or so he'd believed at the time...and he had blindly and painfully believed that not only had he betrayed their best friends, but had then gone on to kill Peter. The blow had nearly destroyed him, but he should have fought. He should have known better, and he couldn't blame Sirius for hating his guts. Hell, he didn't understand how Sirius could even look at him now.

 

Remus stood, going to get his own drink from the cupboard, as if he could drown his guilt. Albus had assured him that Harry would be safer with the Dursleys, and he had, once again, just accepted it and hidden himself from the world waiting to die.

 

Remus braced himself on the counter, fighting back tears that he felt he had no right to shed. Taking a few deep breaths, he poured himself some of the brandy, knocking it back in one gulp. He couldn't hide anymore. There was too much to make up for.

 

And so, with a grimace, he set the glass on the counter and stalked to Sirius’s room. “Open up.”

 

“What part of piss off was difficult to understand, Remus?”

 

“Open the damn door, Sirius.” Remus wasn't going to back down. “You can't numb your emotions with firewhiskey forever, Sirius. It's all going to blow up eventually, and if you keep it up, Harry is going to suffer because of it.” They were the magic words, because the door flew open, a seething Sirius standing in the doorway.

 

“Don't you dare use Harry as a weapon against me, Lupin. Don't you fucking dare.”

 

“I'm not using him as a weapon. I'm just saying what will happen.” The wrinkles around his eyes were more pronounced in his exhaustion.  

 

“Fuck off. I don't want to listen to you or to Dumbledore with your bullshit excuses. You have no right to suggest that I would ever hurt Harry. _I'm_ not the one who left him with those monsters.  I'm not the one who left his _true love_ to rot away in Hell for five years.” His voice dripped with venom, and Remus took it.   “I'm The one that spent the first year knowing that you would never believe I could betray James. That you would come for me. I'm the one that spent the next two years grieving for you, because you must have been _dead_ if you weren't coming for me. I'm the one that spent the last year wishing that someone, _anyone,_ would just write me or visit me because I was _innocent_ and those _things_ were sucking my soul away. I have not spoken to _anyone other than guards_ in _five years._ So you can take your fucking talks somewhere else.”

 

Remus felt each and every word like a stab to the heart. He closed his eyes. “You get it all out?”

 

Sirius’s eyes flashed and he grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him. He wasn't gentle as he wound his fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots, pouring his rage and his heartbreak into the kiss. 

 

Remus gave back everything he got, shoving Sirius back toward the bed. He dragged his hands down his chest, tearing at his shirt before finally managing to get it over his head. “Sirius-” he gasped as the other man rolled his hips up against Remus sharply.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Remus.” Sirius snarled, flipping them and biting down his neck as his hands made quick work of his pants, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Just shut up.” He bit down hard enough to leave a mark on his collar as he shed his own clothes, hands a flurry of movement as he set Remus's skin aflame with want with every touch and stroke. 

 

Remus raked his nails down his back, groaning in pleasure as Sirius bucked again, giving his cock some of the sweet friction he desperately needed. It was short lived as he found himself face down on the bed, practically buzzing with need. “Please. Oh Merlin, plea-ah!” The feel of the preparation spell made him dizzy. Everything was fire and skin and heat as Sirius slid two rough fingers into him. He didn't want to be prepped. He just wanted him to fuck him.

 

A curl of those fingers had his toes curling, another wanton moan. He pressed greedily back against him, biting his cheek to keep from begging. As his fingers fell away, he desperately pushed back, afraid they would both come to their senses. But then Sirius gripped his hips, driving his length into him, making his spine arch at the dull pain and spiking pleasure.

 

“Fuck, Remus.” Sirius’s hips stuttered slowly a few times before he was slamming home, brushing his prostate with every thrust. “Remmy. Fuck.”

 

It had been too long, and the sound of his name said so desperately had him tipping over the edge, crying out as he came against the bed. “Sirius!” The world went white in a haze of pleasure as he felt Sirius fill him with a grunt.

 

The two collapsed in a sweaty pile on the bed, limbs interwoven, Sirius’s head resting between his shoulder blades. Remus swore his heart was going to beat out of his chest. For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of their harsh breathing. Neither spoke, and Remus was horrified that Sirius was going to regret it. He closed his eyes,  waiting for the knife to drop.

 

Instead, Sirius rolled over, tugging Remus against him and stroking his fingers through his hair. “I think that was much more effective than talking.”

 

Remus snorted, tracing a slender finger down his chest. “Of course you do.” They were quiet again, until. “I'm so sorry, Sirius.” His voice broke. “I will never be able to express how sorry I am.” He felt Sirius’s resigned sigh more than he heard it.

 

“I know you are, Moony. I know you are. I just...I need some time to adjust. Everything happened all at once, and I can't process everything. I'm angry at you, Remmy. I'm angry.”

 

Remus felt like he was about three inches tall. He felt those damned tears again and cursed at himself. He would not cry after sex. “You have every right to hate me, Sirius.”

 

“Look at me, Remus.” A gentle hand lifted his chin, forcing Remus to search those blue eyes. Sirius stroked his cheek. “I said I was angry with you, not that I hated you. There really...really wasn't anything you could do to change it.” He pressed his finger to his lips when he attempted to protest. “You should have known I wasn't capable of hurting James or Lily, or that I could kill the rat...but even if you hadn't believed it, there wasn't anything you could have done. The people that mattered said I was guilty and there was no changing their minds. There were plenty of things I should and shouldn't have done that night. I don't hate you, Remus. I'm angry and hurt, but I love you.”

 

Some of those tears spilled despite his best efforts. He never thought he'd hear those words again. Never thought he could deserve those words. His voice cracked as he responded. “I love you, too, Sirius. I should have known better, but I was a coward.  I was scared, Padfoot...and all alone." He touched his jaw, throat tight. "I never thought I'd see you or Harry again." He closed his eyes. "That isn't an excuse but-"  
  
Sirius kissed him again, cutting his ramblings off. This kiss was gentle rather than passionate. "I just need time, Moony. Just give me time..." His gaze flicked over him and he winced. "And uh...I'll try to be a bit more gentle next time."  
  
Remus wasn't sure what he was talking about until he looked down and saw the bite marks and the light scratches. They were hard to find in all of his scars, but he laughed. "I don't mind, Sirius. I left some marks on you, too, you know. It's just been a while." He wouldn't ever bite him. No, that was...was something he couldn't fathom doing, even with the full moon a week and a half off.

 

With a snort, Sirius kissed his nose. "We'll discuss how much we both needed a shag in the morning. Now, really. No more talking tonight. I'm tired.” He slid down a bit, still holding him close. “Goodnight, Moony.”

 

“Goodnight,  Padfoot.” Maybe things would never go back to how they were before. Maybe Sirius hadn't totally forgiven him yet...but laying there in his arms, Remus knew that things would get easier with time. And they had all the time in the world.

  



	6. The Therapist

_ “It's the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it.”  _

―  Frank Warren

* * *

 

 

“Therapy? You think therapy is going to help Harry right now? Talking about all of that with some...shrink?!” Sirius sounded flabbergasted as he stood outside of the hospital wing. It had been two weeks and Sirius was pretty damn proud of how far his godson had come in such a short period of time, “I don’t-”   
  
“I know you don’t, Sirius,” Remus replied softly, rubbing the black haired man’s arm lightly, “But I  _ know  _ it will help him. You and I are good for him- we are, but he needs someone who has been trained in helping children who have been abused. He’s got some wounds that won’t just disappear with potions or cuddles.”   
  
“I don’t want some stranger coming in and throwing off his entire schedule, Remus! He just started to trust  _ you  _ and you want to throw some clinical doctor in there with him?” Sirius wasn’t buying it. Not one little bit, and that smile on Remus’s face only made him nervous, “What?”    
  
“She isn’t a complete stranger. Just..trust me,” The werewolf’s eyes were locked on a figure over Sirius’s shoulder.   
  
“You already called the shrink?!,” Sirius sounded exasperated as he turned to see just who he’d be dealing with...he froze, eyes wide, “Mary? Mary Macdonald?  _ You’re  _ a shrink?”   
  
Mary’s hazel eyes were filled with amusement as she continued her march down the hall, “We prefer the title ‘Therapist’, but I guess shrink works, too.” Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail on her head, and her muggle clothes stuck out like a sore thumb in the grand hallway, “Hello, Sirius.” She pecked his cheek, laughing at the flabbergasted look on his face, “What? You look like a ghost has just appeared.”   
  
“Well, you sort of are a ghost..I thought you were dead, actually,” Sirius managed, eyes flicking between Remus and Mary as if he were trying to figure out the correlation, “I thought...you’d been killed in the last war.”   
  
“Mmm, that’s sort of what I wanted people to think,” she replied softly, letting Remus pull her into a hug, “As a muggleborn, I knew I couldn’t stay out in the open, so I migrated to America as a muggle. Don’t feel bad, Siri. There were only a few people I kept in contact with.”   
  
“I didn’t know she was alive until I went looking for therapists,” Remus confessed, smiling lightly, “It’s good to see you, Mary.”   
  


“Makes sense,” Sirius replied, still bewildered, “So...you think you can help Harry?” His eyes flicked toward the door to the hospital wing, “Do you know everything?”   
  
Mary considered for a moment before responding, “I hope so, yes. My specialty are children placed in foster care, and considering that you two are now acting as his parents, there are definite similarities.” Giving a small shake of her head, the young witch continued, “No. I don’t want or need to know everything. It taints my view of a patient. I know that Harry was removed from a potentially dangerous situation.” She raised an eyebrow at Sirius’s snort of anger, “But..can I see him?”    
  
Remus looked to Sirius, hope clear on his face, “Padfoot?”   
  
Sirius sighed heavily, “Of course, Mary...but…” he warned, “If he starts getting upset, I’m pulling the plug on this entire operation.” With that, he pushed open the door. The relief flowed through him as soon as that little boy’s eyes lit up, “Hey, Harry!”   
  
“Padfoot!” The six year old exclaimed, hopping up from the bed and rushing toward him. Those big green eyes were filled with a sort of happiness that hadn’t been there two weeks ago. His bruises were fading and the portions were bringing the color back to his cheeks.   
  
“You’re gonna get me in trouble, pup,” Sirius laughed, plucking him off the ground, “I have a friend that wants to talk to you, is that okay?”    
  
“Is it Moony?” Harry asked, peering over Sirius’s shoulder curiously. When he spotted the stranger, he got shy again, ducking his head against his Godfather’s shoulder.   
  
“I’m here to talk any time you want, little man,” Remus chuckled, stepping toward them. It was good to see him looking better, “But this is Miss Mary. She’s a doctor.”   
  
“Hi, Harry.” Mary greeted warmly, watching them all with soft eyes. She looked him over, noting the fading bruises and how small he was. There was a haunted look in his eyes that made her heart break, “It’s really nice to meet you.”   
  
Harry chewed on his lip, looking up at Sirius, “Is she going to take me away?” He whispered, gripping his robes tightly, “I’m sorry if I was bad. I promise I won’t be anymore. I pinky promise. Please, don’t send me away…”   
  
“Harry,” Sirius soothed, stroking his hair, “I’m not going to send you away.” His gaze flicked to Mary.   
  
“Actually, Harry,” Mary smiled, reaching into her bag, “I was just wanting to color with you. Right in here.” And then she plopped right down on the floor, “Will you color with me?”   
  


Immediately, Harry’s eyes lit up, “Color?” He squirmed out of Sirius’s arms, “What sort of pictures do you have?”

 

“I want to see what sort of pictures you draw,” Mary replied pleasantly, “Is it okay if Sirius and Remus leave us alone for a little bit? Madam Poppy is still here.”   
  
Sirius looked more afraid than Harry did, “Are you-”   
  
“C’mon, Sirius,” Remus placed a soft hand on the other man’s shoulder, “You have some grown up stuff to take care of anyway.” Gently, so as not to provoke him, Remus guided Sirius from the room.

 

“Grown up stuff? Other than blasting Dumbledore with every hex I can think of, I don't have any-”

 

“Custody papers, Siri.” Remus cocked an amused eyebrow. “Technically, we kidnapped Harry.” 

 

“From people that were abusing hi-”

 

“I know, Sirius. We still have to take care of the legal proceedings.  They won't grant you custody until after the trial, and they won't grant me custody because I'm a monster.” Remus pinched his nose, letting out a breath. “So we have to figure something out before the ministry bursts in to take him away from us.”

 

Sirius, for his part, didn't explode. He felt as if he were approximately two seconds away from earning those five years in Azkaban. With a frustrated groan, he started down the hallway. “I’m legally his godfather. They can’t keep him from me.”   
  
“They can and they will, Black.” Severus’s cold drawl seemed to crawl under Sirius’s skin. There may have been a twitch.   
  
“This is none of your business, Snivelus, so I’m going to ask you to keep your big nose out of it.” There was a tension between them that was nearly tangible. He heard Remus sigh.   
  
“Do you know a way around it, Severus?”    
  
“I think I may.” Severus spoke to Remus, ignoring the other man completely. His dark eyes were guarded. “The boy could become a ward of the school for the time being.”   
  
“Dumbledore is n-”   
  
“I was thinking Minerva would be someone to talk to about taking guardianship for him.” Severus went on as if he hadn’t heart Sirius’s interruption. “I am sure that if you spoke with her, she would be more than reasonable, Lupin.” 

“I..thank you, Severus. That could work for the time being.” He touched Sirius’s arm lightly. “Minerva has already been in to visit him, Sirius. He knows her, and she’s as taken with him as the rest of us are. And, it isn’t as if she won’t let us see him.  Do you know if he would stay at the school?”   
  
“That  _ is _ what ward of the school implies, Lupin.” Snape’s reply was cool. “She would simply be the legal caretaker to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.”

 

“He is six years old, Snape. How much trouble could he really get into?” Sirius was fighting for the sake of fighting at this point, his utter loathing of the potions professor preventing him from acknowledging that it was a good idea. He ignored Remus’s subtle shake of his head.   
  
“If he is anything like his father and godfather, than I’d say quite a bit.” There was a look in his eyes, as if he were daring him to disagree. “It appears the years in Azkaban have not done anything to improve your manners, Black.”   
  
Sirius’s eyes flashed, hand dropping to his wand. “Don’t say anything about James Potter, Snape. I will hex you.”   
  
“Would it be possible for the two of you to go five minutes without badgering each other?” Remus sounded exhausted.   
  
“It isn’t my fault he sticks his greasy nose into everyone’s business, Remus. That’s the life of a spy I suppose. He has to wheedle his way in everywhere-” Sirius whipped his wand out as fast as Severus had, eyes narrowed.    
  
“You shouldn’t talk about things you know  _ nothing about _ , Blac-”   
  
“Papa?” Trix settled right at his side, frowning at the wands that were raised. “Can we visit Harry Potter today?” She pouted up at him, before curiously looking at the two strangers.    
  
Sirius hesitated a moment, scowling before he dropped his wand. “Harry is busy at the moment.” He eyed the little girl, trying to muster up fear or resentment...but all he could manage was unease. She was a parseltongue, after all, and apparently Snape’s child. Still. She had somehow gotten Harry to stop calling himself freak in every other word during her ‘secret’ visits when they were both supposed to be sleeping. He knew that Severus brought her to play with Harry when he was checking up on the healing potions, and he wasn’t about to take away the only playmate that Harry had. Still. Did she have to be  _ Snape’s  _ child?

 

How had Severus Snape managed to woo a woman? Let alone produce a child. It made him a little queasy thinking about it. Sliding his wand into his pocket, he glanced at Remus, trying to read how he was feeling about the odd little girl who spoke parseltongue with their pup. He came up blank and sighed internally. 

Snape only lowered his wand when Sirius did, his jaw tight but his words cool. “Not today, Trix.” He had shifted in front of her protectively. As if Sirius would ever hurt a child. “We’re having lunch with Draco today.”    
  
Sirius’s lip curled at the mention of the child of yet another Death Eater. He needed to get Harry some better friends. “I’m sure that will be a delightful picnic of joy.”   
  
“Yes, Black, I believe it will be-”   
  
“Trix!” Harry’s excited voice seemed to cut through the tension. He bounded over, faster than he probably should have been moving, in Sirius’s opinion. There were a lot of wounds still healing.   
  
Snape rolled his eyes, turning to let Trix move toward him. He froze when he spotted the woman coming out of the hospital doors. “Mary?”   
  
Sirius’s head jerked as he looked between them. He’d never seen Severus Snape look so, well, he couldn’t pinpoint the emotion, but the fact of the matter was that it was an emotion on Severus Snape’s face. He glanced toward Mary, confused by her expression as well. There was a long stretch of silence between them, interrupted only by the children’s chatter.    
  
“Sev…” Mary was the first one to come to her senses. She shook her head, strolling forward. “It’s good to...it’s good to see you again.” She held his gaze, looking toward the kids. “So, this is the Trix that Harry was telling me all about?”   
  
“You were in there for all of fifteen minutes,” Remus chuckled.   
  
“He can really talk when he wants to, and that’s good, huh, Harry?” Mary ruffled his hair lightly.    
  
Harry looked up, beaming. “We made pictures, Moony! And I told her about how Padfoot can turn into a doggy, and how Trix teaches me magic tricks and that I’m /special/.” He looked out of breath and then he froze a little, looking between them as if he’d said too much.   
  
Sirius jumped in before he could start to worry that he’d done something wrong. “That’s great, pup.” He scooped him up, grinning.    
  
“We can color any time you want, Harry.” Mary kept glancing from Trix to Snape. “Actually, I convinced Poppy that some sunshine would be fun. Perhaps we can all go outside?”   
  
“Please, Padfoot?” Harry looked up at Sirius, and he knew that saying no to this little boy was going to be a challenge in the future.    
  
“Sure, kiddo. As long as there is no tree climbing or...other dangerous activity.” Sirius sighed as Harry gently squirmed out of his arms happily.   
  
“Thank you, Padfoot. Thank you!”    
  
“I have to show him the giant squid!” Trix took Harry’s hand, looking up at her father questioningly. “And  _ then  _ we can have lunch with Draco?”   
  
Severus opened his mouth, but Mary’s voice stopped him.    
  
“I think it sounds like an excellent idea.” She looked to Severus, smiling slightly. “The sun will do us all some good.”

 

Snape sighed. “Very well. Just a bit, Trix.” He gestured toward the door. “Lead the way.”   
  
  
Sirius burst into laughter. “Are you afraid you’ll burst into flames, Snape?” He wrinkled his nose when Remus stepped on his foot to get him to shut up. Alright, so maybe mocking Severus in front of the children was irresponsible, but Mary had set that up so perfectly. Besides, Trix was already dragging Harry toward the door.   
  
“Don’t be a bully, Sirius.” Mary walked with them, thoughtful and quiet, her eyes on the children. In fact, all of the adults watched the two racing through the grass. Sirius wanted to make sure Harry didn’t strain himself, but he also didn’t want to hover. This parenting shit was hard.    
  
“So, that was a short visit, Mary.” Remus prompted softly, causing Sirius to drag his eyes back to Mary. He wasn’t sure how long therapy was supposed to last, but...Remus had a point.   
  
“It was a preliminary,” Mary explained softly. “And he was anxious with you two gone. He spoke for the first five minutes and then he kept apologizing and looking for you, so I figured I’d speak with you two before he had a full blown panic attack.”    
  
Sirius felt his stomach roll. “Oh, Harry.” He glanced down when Remus took his hand, smiling slightly despite the nausea. He’d been through so much in his short life. As he watched him happily chuck his shoes off to dip his toes in the lake, Sirius didn’t understand how anyone could hurt him. 

 

“He will adjust, I’m sure.” Snape’s voice surprised Sirius. He went to respond sarcastically, before realizing that the potions professor was being sincere. “Children are very good at adapting.”

 

“They’re the most resilient of us all,” Mary murmured, watching as the giant squid poked it’s head out. “With the support he’ll get here, his wounds will heal.” She turned to Remus and Sirius, lips pursed. “I think that I should keep seeing him if you’re okay with it...and I need to warn you. Remus wasn’t the only one that asked me to see Harry.”   
  
Sirius’s brow furrowed. “Really? Who els-” He scowled. “What did Dumbledore ask you to do?” He heard Snape snort. “No, really. I don’t want him involved in Harry’s life, Mary. We’re going to ask  Professional McGonagall to be his guardian until I’m through with court. Dumbledore is lucky I haven’t hexed him-”   
  
“What did he want, Mary?” Remus cut in, squeezing Sirius’s hand. There were only a few things that Albus could want, and not one of them were any good.

 

“He wants me to determine whether or not Harry is stable enough to visit his Aunt.”   


	7. The Present

_“Then she did something so unexpected Nico would later think he dreamed it. She walked up to Nico, who was standing to one side in the shadows, as usual. She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently into the firelight. ‘We had one home,’ she said. ‘Now we have two.’ She gave Nico a big hug and the crowd roared with approval. For once, Nico didn’t feel like pulling away. He buried his face in Reyna’s shoulder and blinked the tears out of his eyes.”_

**―** **Rick Riordan** **,** **The Blood of Olympus**

* * *

  


Harry really, really liked the castle. There were talking pictures, ghosts, secret hiding places, and best of all, there were people here that seemed to like him and he liked them in return. Some days, he woke up and was confused why he wasn’t in his cupboard. Even though it had been three weeks since he’d had to make breakfast for Uncle Vernon, three weeks since he’d scrubbed anything, and three weeks since anyone had laid an unkind hand on him, he still expected to disappoint the people in the castle who were so nice to him. He was still surprised that they hadn’t called him a bad boy and taken away his supper.

 

Like the night after he’d been able to leave the hospital wing, and he’d been all alone in the bedroom that his Padfood and Moony had made for him in the castle. He’d woken up crying from a bad nightmare, which was annoying and inconsiderate. At least, that was what his Aunt had always told him. When the door open, he’d expected Padfoot to be really angry at him for waking up. He’d curled up into a little ball, ready to be swatted since he deserved it.

 

Instead, Padfoot had scooped him up and taken him into he and Moony’s bedroom. Right into their bed! He’d asked if Harry wanted to talk about the dream, while Remus had gotten him some tea. They’d cuddled him and told him that he was a good kid, that bad dreams weren’t his fault and he should always wake them up if he had one. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, he was still in bed with them, safe and sound. He couldn’t believe it.

 

And it wasn’t just his Padfoot and Moony that were nice to him. Mr. Albus always had loli pops for him. He knew that Padfoot didn’t like it when Mr. Albus stopped by the rooms to talk to him, but he was always nice, and he told Harry it was okay to ask questions. Boy, he had a lot of questions. Mr. Albus told him all about the talking pictures, the House Elves, and the giant squid. He never stayed long, because Padfoot got annoyed after a while, but never with Harry.

 

Professor Minnie had even taken him to a big building to stand in front of a judge. The judge said that she would be his legal guardian until Padfoot was allowed to adopt him. He didn’t know what all of those words were exactly, but she told him that it meant everyone at the school would take care of him before he could go home with Padfoot forever.  She’d seemed very scary at first, but when she turned into a cat, he’d immediately liked her a whole bunch. She even gave him biscuits and smiled when he drew her a picture.

 

Miss Mary and Trix were his two favorite people other than his godfathers. He talked to Miss Mary almost everyday for little bouts of time. Sometimes they would color and she would ask him questions. Sometimes she would teach him new games, and she’d taught him what to do when he got really scared and couldn’t breathe right. Count to ten and squeeze his fists and take deep breaths. She took him for walks when Remus and Sirius had to do grown up stuff.

 

Today was an important day for their grownup stuff. Something about Court had Padfoot pacing all night, which of course made Harry nervous. He’d hugged them both tight when they had to leave, and part of him was afraid they wouldn’t come back. They’d promised they would come back, but...he was still worried. He’d confessed that to Trix and Draco as they sat together in the great hall, Miss Mary and Severus watching dutifully.

 

“Father says that they’re going to lock him up again,” Draco told Harry unhelpfully, munching on a tart despite the fact that he hadn’t touched any of the good food. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about Draco, yet. Sometimes, he reminded him an awful lot of Dudley with his arrogant smirk and carelessly cruel words. Other times, though, when they were playing, he accidentally said sweet things that made Harry wonder if he was trying too hard to be mean. This time, though, his words made him tremble.  
  
“Lock him up?” Harry bit his trembling lip, looking toward the table. “Why would they lock him up?”  Padfoot was good. He didn’t deserve to be locked up.

 

“Father says that he’s a blood traitor an- Ow, Trix!” The blonde boy scowled, rubbing the spot on his arm where she’d pinched him. “That hurt.”  
  
“It was meant to.” Trix looked at Harry, cool as a cucumber. “They aren’t going to lock him up, Harry. Don’t fret. Draco is just being a parrot.” She scooped some food into her mouth, indelicate and sure of herself despite the quizzical looks she was getting from both boys. “What?”   
  
“What do you mean I’m being a parrot?” Draco looked very offended, or as offended as any six year old could look. “I am _not_ a parrot.”

 

“It’s what my papa calls you when you just say the things that your father says.” Trix shrugged. “He doesn’t think that Black is going to go to prison. He won’t talk about it much, but he was grumbling this morning.”

 

“What’s a blood traitor?” Harry squirmed anxiously, very worried despite Trix’s assurance. He glanced toward the head table where Miss Mary and Severus were having what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Were they worried? What would happen to him if Remus and Sirius didn’t come back? Would he live with Professor Minnie forever? Would they send him back to live with his Aunt and Uncle?

 

Draco opened his mouth and then closed it, frowning. “I don’t know..but probably a bad wizard.” He glared at Trix, as if daring her to deny it. Harry figured that meant that he didn’t really know what a blood traitor was. He’d have to ask Moony.   
  
Harry’s chest felt tight as he looked at his food, chest tight. “They can’t lock him up,” he whispered. “He wasn’t bad.”   
  
Trix and Draco exchanged glances, and Draco hastily tried to correct himself. “Maybe they won’t. And..and even if they do, Lupin will still come back to take care of you, Harry.” He frowned at himself, as if weighing his words. “I wasn’t trying to give you a fright, Harry.”   
  
His words didn’t make Harry calm down. He pushed away from the table, racing down the hall and ignoring their calls for him. He had to get to Padfoot and make sure they knew he wasn’t the bad one. If they had to lock somebody up, they should lock him up because he was a wicked freak child. He raced as fast as his little legs would take him, panic making it harder and harder to breathe. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”   
  
“It’s wee Potty, running down the halls!” Peeves cackled from above him, making the pictures on the wall shake. “Potty, Potty, Potty! Where are you runnin, Potty? In trouble already?” He swooped down on him, cackling before he disappeared into the wall.   
  
Harry couldn’t get the door open. Why couldn’t he get the door open? Blinded from tears, panting around what felt like an elephant on his chest, Harry curled up against the wall, rocking himself. Padfoot wasn’t going to come back for him. They were going to send him away. All of these nice people were going to learn that he was a wicked freak, and they were going to send him back or to the orphanage.

 

It felt like hours, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes when someone crouched down in front of him.  
  
“Potter.” Severus kept his voice low, dark eyes intense. When Harry didn’t respond, he let out a breath. “Harry, look at me, child.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about Severus most days. He and Padfoot obviously didn’t like each other, but he was Trix’s papa, so he couldn’t be all bad. Mostly, Harry knew that he needed to listen to him. He lifted his head, breathing rough. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”   
  
“Don’t apologize.” Severus hesitated before reaching to wipe the tears from his face, thumbs gentle. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Count to ten with me.” He started slowly, and it took a few tries for Harry to start counting with him. They made it to ten, and Harry’s breathing seemed to ease. “Good. One more time.”

 

“-Eight, nine, ten.” Harry closed his eyes, trembling.  He was sleepy now. “They can’t lock Padfoot up, Mr. Sevrus. They can’t lock him up.”

 

“They aren’t going to lock him up, Harry.” Severus seemed to consider his next move.   
  
The next thing Harry was aware of was being plucked up against Severus’s chest and lifted from the floor. He rested his head on his shoulder, sniffling. “But Draco said-”

 

“Draco is a little boy who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Your Godfather will be home to make sure you’re in bed on time. Both of them.” Severus’s deep voice echoed truth, and Harry relaxed a bit more.

 

“If they decide they don’t want me anymore, will I go back to my aunt and uncle, Mr. Sevrus?” Harry shifted, so he could look toward his face, felt him tense as they headed to his rooms. He’d never been in Trix’s rooms before, but even his curiosity didn’t stove off the dread.

 

Severus gently sat Harry at the table, flicking his wand toward the tea kettle. He wasn’t smiling, but he knelt in front of the little boy, brushing his hair away from his face as if to look at his eyes. “Harry, you will never go back to that house. You have my word. Black and Lupin love you very much.” He seemed to struggling, but he took a deep breath. “They will not decide they do not want you, and even if they did, there are many people who would have you live with them before they sent you back to your aunt and uncle.”

 

Harry dragged his gaze away, little tears squeezing through his scrunched eyelids. “Mr. Dumbledore wants me to go back to my aunt, and I don’t know why and Padfoot won’t talk to me about it. He just says that I don’t have to go back and Mr. Dumbledore doesn’t get a say...and other stuff that Moony usually makes him stop saying.” He let out a little breath, peeking up at Severus.  
  
There was a vein bulging in his temple, and for a moment Harry was afraid that he was angry at him. Instead, Severus surprised him again. He cupped his cheeks, speaking softly. “Harry, your Godfathers will not let Professor Dumbledore take you from them, and he would not send you back anyway.” He let go as the kettle whistled, flicking his wand again. A cup of the warm tea floated toward them. “You are safe now. There is no use in thinking about what could be, Mr. Potter. Right now, today, you are protected and home. Even if everything else goes wrong, _I_ will keep you safe.”

 

Harry looked up at him, amazed. “Really?” He sipped the tea quietly, letting his feet swing back and forth. “You’re...you’re kinda scary, Mr. Sevrus.”  
  
“Sev-er-us.” Snape corrected quietly. “But yes, Harry. If all else fails...I will keep you safe.” He chuckled softly, standing up. “I _am_ scary, and don’t ever let Trix convince you otherwise.”

 

Harry considered that as he sipped his tea, frowning at the warm drink. “Thank you, Mr. Severus.”

 

“Sev?” Mary poked her head through the door, Draco and Trix clamoring at her heels. “Ah, hello, Harry.” She stepped aside to let the children in, smiling slightly as she glanced between Harry and Severus. “Looks like you two have sorted everything out.”

 

“For now, but that’s all that matters. Correct, Mr. Potter?” Severus raised an eyebrow at the child, resting a hand on Trix’s head when she came to stand by him.

 

Harry looked up, smiling shyly. “Correct, Mr. Severus.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Draco chimed up quietly from the corner, frowning as if apologizing was something he wasn’t very good at. “That I upset you, Harry. I didn’t...it wasn’t...I wasn’t trying to.”  
  
“It’s okay, Draco.” Harry smiled at him, setting the tea down. “Can we play a game?”   
  
“I think that is a wonderful idea, Harry. Exploding snaps and chess?” Mary clapped her hands together, gathering all the children around the table.   
  
Harry looked around the room, biting his lip. Yes. He quite liked the castle.

* * *

 

Severus looked over the sleeping children, exhausted and amused. Draco had crashed first, in the armchair with the radio playing. His godson seemed to have exhausted himself with apologies and snide comments throughout the day. Severus would take him home in the morning.

 

Harry and Trix had finally fallen asleep at half past nine after dancing raucously long after Draco had fallen asleep. He’d listened to them make up stories of dragons and vampires while he did his lesson plans and Mary had gone to see what was keeping Black and Lupin so long at the ministry. It wasn’t as if they had a child terrified that they wouldn’t be coming back or anything. 

 

Severus sighed as he rubbed his temples, wondering, not for the first time, just what he had gotten himself into. It appeared as though Harry Potter had squirmed his way under Severus’s skin very quickly. He may have looked like James Potter, but he had Lily’s kind demeanor. It didn’t help that Trix had taken to the frightened child right away. She’d only had Draco for a companion for most of her life, and Severus had been worried that she wouldn’t be able to make friends on her own. Apparently, the fears were unfounded. 

 

Their friendship would cause him grief, he could feel it. As he watched them, Trix sprawled out, taking up far more space than should be possible of a six year old girl, and Harry, curled up in the corner of the couch, he realized that the trouble would probably be worth it. As he’d told Harry earlier, the important part was enjoying the moment. 

 

“Ah, looks like I’ve missed the grand finally.” Mary’s voice drifted over him like a warm blanket. Her’s was a voice he’d never thought he’d hear again. Never thought he’d deserve to hear again, and he had to be very careful about where he stepped when it came to the woman that put him at ease so easily.   
  
“You missed quite the show. Any word from the dogs?” Severus picked up his tea, feeling her sit beside him. After all these years, she’d walked right back in and made him feel like a clumsy teenage boy again.   
  
“They kept pushing the time back,” Mary grumbled. “And calling for unnecessary recesses. Professor Dumbledore thinks it should be over within the hour.” She sighed, looking at the children with a faint smile. “I’m guessing you handled his panic attack very well. Tonight was the longest I’ve seen him go without separation anxiety.”   
  
“The games helped keep his mind off of it.” Severus pursed his lips, finally looking at her. “You aren’t going to tell Albus that it is safe for him to go back to those muggles are you?” He watched her, the way she carefully tucked her dark curls behind her ear, the easy smile on her lips. Even with the smudge of eye makeup carelessly applied, she seemed perfectly composed. He wondered how she made it look so easy.

 

“Of course not. Any mention of those monsters sends him into a panic.” Mary frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why Dumbledore insists that he stay in contact with his Aunt. I went to stay with Lily during our third year, and Petunia was a pain even then.” Her gaze traveled to him an eyebrow raising. “I suppose you have some idea?”   
  
“I do.”   
  
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” Mary snorted, stealing his tea to take a sip. “I suppose it isn’t any of my business. After tonight, it won’t be Dumbledore’s either. Professor McGonagall will hand over custody as soon as this Azkaban nonsense is sorted out.” 

 

“Azkaban nonsense,” Severus drawled, amused. “Funny. I thought it was something pressing.” 

 

“You know what I mean, you silly man.” Mary looked him for a moment, head cocked to the side. There was a brief, terse moment of quiet. “I still haven’t figured you out, Severus.”

 

“There is not much more than what you see. I am a bitter, old professor with no business raising a child.” Severus gestured to his papers. “And, for that matter, no business working with children. Come now, Mary, you’re a psychologist.”    
  
“Old? We’re twenty-six years old, Severus. Shut up.” Mary flicked a bit of parchment at him, amused.” Bitter, perhaps. I’m still working on the middle bits of the story that I missed. I’m not sure how you went from supposed Death Eater to father of the year, actually. Haven’t worked that one out.” She sipped her tea, still pleasant, which made Severus want to rip each strand of his own hair out.   
  
Severus rolled his eyes. “Hardly father of the year.” His gaze drifted to Trix again. He never intended life to become complicated. He probably should have sorted through that before following the Dark Lord. She was prying into things he wasn’t sure he was ready to share.

 

“No, but truly, Severus. Six years ago, you came to me, after not hearing from you for months,” There at last, was hurt, “And told me I needed to leave the country because You-Know-Who knew that I was helping the Order and wanted me dead-”   
  
“He did. And he would have killed you if he’d found you.” Severus had risked everything to go to her, to provide safe passage overseas. He believed he’d never see her again. “I can get you your own tea, you know. That is probably cold.”   
  


“No, this one suits me just fine. So, you were a Death Eater at the time when you came to me, I knew that. I accepted that I wouldn’t change your mind when we were at school, even if you claimed to love me.” She finished off the tea, still looking at him with soft eyes. “So, I left...and now that I’m back, I discover that you had a child. A child that you watch over and worry about every minute of the day...a child that doesn’t appear to have any qualms with muggleborns or blood status. I’m missing pieces of the puzzle, Severus. Care to help me find them?”   
  
Severus swallowed, expression unreadable. “I don’t believe that I can, Mary. You know that I never had an issue with your bloo-”   
  
“I’ll stop you there.” Mary held up her hand. “You can’t willingly join a monster that would have had me killed just because my parents were muggles and not have an issue with my blood, Severus. At least when you joined. Please, do not claim that it was not an issue when we were together, or else we would not have separated.”   
  
“I made a mistake. A mistake that cost me you. It cost me Lily back in school and then again when she died. I’m not defending the mistake. I’ll correct myself. I do not have an issue with your blood status, now, because I am an adult. I…” He looked toward Trix again. There was so much he couldn’t say. “Trix was raised here, at the castle, with the influence of every professor and student. I do not intend on her making the same mistakes that I made.”

 

Seeming satisfied with the answer, Mary let her hand fall, resting lightly on Severus’s. He thought, perhaps, she enjoyed making him uncomfortable and wistful all at the same time. “She’s wonderful, Sev. Truly. You’ve done well. Is she the reason you took Dumbledore’s offer?”

 

“No. I can honestly say she wasn’t.” Severus looked at their hands, feeling very old. “Trix did not come to me until a few months after the Dark Lord was dead.” It had been...quite the surprise for all involved. 

 

“Her mother kept her from you?” He was touched that she sounded so upset about it, not that he would admit it.

 

“Not...exactly.” Severus pulled his hand back, jaw clenched. “I cannot tell you what you want to know, Mary.” 

 

“You haven’t even let me ask yet, Severus.” Mary left her hand on the table, frowning at it as if it had done something wrong. “Who is her mother? If you aren’t telling me to spare my feelings, Severus, I assure you, this doesn’t change what I already knew. We saw each other in secret for so long, it must have been difficult to suppress...desires during our time apart. And I imagine you had to keep images up with the Death Eaters.” 

 

Severus looked at her in shock for a moment, anger raising before he could stop it. He glared at her coldly. “You imply that I slept around while we were together? Did you think so little of me then?”   
  
Mary’s brow furrowed. “Severus. Trix is six years old. She had to have been conceived when we were seeing each other. You can’t be angry at me for being able to do  _ math. _ ” She frowned, looking between Severus and the children. Severus could see her gears working. He knew he had to shut them down for Trix’s safety...and perhaps his own fear.    
  
“You’re right.” He stood, taking the empty tea cup. “I underestimated your arithmetic abilities, Mary. She was the product of a drunken slag when I was nineteen. If you’re finished, I think I can handle sleeping children on my own.” He turned, but not before he saw the flash of hurt on her face. Hopefully it would be enough to keep her from thinking on it, too long. 

 

“Sirius would kill me if I left Harry with you unsupervised. I’ll take that cup of tea now.”

  
Severus wished he couldn’t detect the hitch in her voice. He gave her a moment to compose herself before pouring the tea for her. “Of course.” He set the cup down in front of her, before settling in to resume his lesson plan for the year. The silence that followed as the minutes ticked by was excruciating, but, Severus accepted it. His choices were his own, and he would live with them.   
  
Luckily, the silence was broken almost half an hour later by a knock on the door. He rose, already annoyed with Black’s voice before he even heard it. “They’re sleeping. Keep your voice down.”    
  
“Not even you can ruin my mood, Snape.” Sirius darted in much to Severus’s displeasure. “Where is he?”   
  
“On the couch.” Mary stood, smiling as Sirius hugged her. “Congratulations, Sirius. A free man, I assume?”   
  
“You assume right.” Sirius kissed her cheek before darting silently to carefully pluck Harry up from the couch.   
  
Severus stood awkwardly at the door, nodding to Remus who respectfully waited outside. At least someone had some decency, and at least Black was leaving quickly. All Severus wanted to do was go to bed before Trix was up with the sun. He watched as Sirius passed him, Mary right behind him. There was a moment of painful eye contact, which Severus broke.   
  
“Goodnight, Severus.” Mary smiled faintly as she left, leaving Severus feeling like scum.   
  
“Goodnight, Mary.” He shut the door, sagging against it and wiping his hand over his face. It was all for the best.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This was previously posted on FF. I've done a little bit of editing, but most of it is the original writing from two years ago, so if you can bare through the first few chapters, I promise the writing does improve. Thanks for reading!


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